


A Diplomacy of Trees

by quercus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-21
Updated: 2002-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	A Diplomacy of Trees

"Daniel." Jack waited until he was sure he had Daniel's attention. "Do you notice -- Uh. Do you think maybe we're being watched?"

Daniel looked around them. "By whom?"

"I dunno." He shrugged, elaborately casual. "Just a feeling." Before Daniel could turn back to continue after Teal'c and Sam, Jack added, "Look around, would you? What do you see?

"Trees."

"Always with the trees."

"Grasses. Flowers. Vines. Shrubs. Moss. Lichen on the rocks."

"Okay, okay. Enough already with the botany lesson. My point was: Do you see anything that might be, uh, *watching* us?"

"You're suggesting there's a consciousness here? Some kind of sentience?" Jack nodded, and Daniel sighed. He stared through his sunglasses at the world around them. Flattish. Hills off in the distance, cupping the deep blue sky, unmarred by any clouds. Oak-like trees, obviously very old, their gnarled branches reaching skyward.

A profound silence. He could hear Jack's breath, and his own with a slight whistle because his nose was a bit stopped up. His heart. The rustle of Jack's jacket as he stirred restlessly next to Daniel. The crinkle of the trees' leaves as they moved in a gentle breeze.

The air smelled new to him, as if it had just been released by the leaves of the oak trees and had never been inhaled by anyone before. Which it probably hadn't, he realized.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Jack. No, there's nothing I can point to and say: Look. It's conscious. It's self-aware. It's sentient." He paused to study his friend. "What do you think?

Jack shrugged, but didn't speak. He, too, stared at the silent, unmoving landscape around them, then slowly turned in a circle. When Jack turned back to face him, Daniel nodded and said, "I'll note your concerns, Jack. I'll pay closer attention."

Jack smiled at him, and lightly knocked his elbow. "Thanks," he said. Daniel felt a rush of love for Jack at that moment, a powerful sense of brotherhood and camaraderie. If he could figure out a reason to do so, he would've hugged Jack. Instead, he just smiled back and nodded.

They turned to follow Teal'c and Sam, who had stopped to wait for them, not far from another of the oak-like trees. Daniel studied it carefully as they walked toward their teammates; it really was a beautiful tree. They all were. All alike in color and shape, yet all were different. This one was shorter than some, but its branches extended farther, and veils of sage-green moss hung from it.

"Sir?" Sam asked, and Jack shrugged again.

"Nothing, Major. Let's go."

There was no trail to follow. Just the stargate, set in an empty field surrounded by hills and trees. The grass they waded through was hip high, and the color of sunshine. As the breeze tossed the seeded heads, their colors shifted through the spectrum, from gold to bronze to an almost olive green and then gold again. The effect was hypnotic and deeply relaxing.

The sound, too, was relaxing; almost oceanic to Daniel's ears. So different from Abydos, from Colorado Springs, from Chicago, New York, LA, or Egypt. None of the places he'd lived had been like this. He thought perhaps it might have be what the prairie had looked like, two hundred years ago, before it had been plowed and planted and destroyed.

But here, no hands had touched this soil, matted deeply with roots, so thick it was like walking on the richest carpet. The grasses brushed gently against his thighs, a sensual stroking that heightened his awareness of his body. And the air -- he couldn't get over the scent of the air. He breathed deeply, grateful for the anti-histamines that Janet provided him with, so he could enjoy the purity and freshness.

They were walking toward the nearest hill, in the hopes of finding a vantage point from which to view the region. Why was there a stargate here? Surely that implied that *someone* had lived here sometime. Yet to Daniel's knowledgeable eye, there was nothing that gave an indication of sentient life. Not any kind of life, really, other than plant: no trail through the grasses, no birds singing in the trees, no chittering of chipmunks or howling of monkeys. Just the silence of open space: the grasses sighing in the breeze, the trees creaking quietly, and his teammates' movement through this world.

It's like being underwater, he thought; sound is muffled and slowed.

They moved into a stand of oaks, or whatever they were; he promised himself to get samples of the leaves as well as the grasses and moss before they left. The dappled sunlight fell over them like butterscotch, and pollen floated in the air, rising in a warm updraft.

No one spoke. It would be sacrilege to speak.

They climbed steadily through the trees, not drawing too close to any one of them, Daniel noticed. They were old trees, their gnarled roots rising from the soil to shelter small flowers with tiny violet petals or a red stem topped by what looked like a miniature falling star. He watched his feet compulsively, to be sure he didn't step on the flowers or the roots.

They moved out of the oaks and back into full sunlight as they approached the crown of the hill. Daniel discovered he was bounding the last few yards to the top, racing Sam and Teal'c and Jack, his heart full of some emotion he couldn't identify.

He turned to survey this world, turning as Jack had earlier, in a slow circle, catching sight of his teammates one by one as they, too, turned. Beyond the hill, he saw more oaks, and the tops of distant oaks, and more hills rising around them, gentle inclines. The sky was as blue as Wedgwood china, and Daniel felt that this was the color that sky was meant to be, the color to which all skies aspired. He sighed, and heard Jack sigh gustily. He turned his head to watch Jack, who wore a slight smile on his face as he also surveyed this new world they'd found.

"Beautiful, isn't it," he murmured, still unwilling to break the silence, and Jack nodded. Sam and Teal'c were staring out with delight as well, and the four teammates stood shoulder to shoulder, alone, apparently, on this world.

"Don't you feel it?" Jack whispered, and Daniel saw Sam nod.

"A friendly presence," Teal'c said in a soft rumble. Daniel frowned, and tried to feel what his teammates were sensing. He took a deep breath of the sweet air and closed his eyes, sending out his hearing, letting the world wash into him.

The sunlight was warm on his skin, and a slight breeze brushed the hair on his forearms and touched the back of his neck. The suggestion of ocean recurred to him as the grasses and leaves slid against their neighbors. When he'd stood silently for a moment, he realized he could hear not only his own breath, but the others' as well. He could smell Jack's aftershave and Sam's shampoo. Hear Teal'c adjust his grip on his staff weapon, butted into the ground. Feel the warm aura from Jack's body next to his.

He opened his eyes. "What do you feel?" he asked them.

Sam frowned. "A presence," she said, but that didn't help. He looked at Jack, who shook his head.

"I dunno," he said at last, his voice soft. "Someone watching. Curious. Just -- there."

He looked out again, and then turned to look back at the stargate, gleaming dully in the sun. Grasses obscured its base, and an oak trees was visible through the ring, set obliquely to Daniel's angle of vision. Was there something here? Or was he just susceptible to his friends's suggestions?

"It's the trees," Jack said suddenly. They all looked at him. "Or something," he added uncertainly. "But I think it's the trees."

Jack left them standing on the hill and clambered down to the nearest oak. He approached it slowly, as if it would dash away if he surprised it, raising his right hand. In greeting, Daniel wondered, or in self-defense? But then he saw it was only to rest his hand against the trunk of the tree.

First Sam, then Daniel, and finally Teal'c scrambled after him, approaching the tree almost as slowly as Jack had. He was staring at the tree, not moving. "Jack?" Daniel asked him, coming to stand next to him.

"Put your hand here," Jack whispered, and Daniel heard enormous emotion in Jack's flat midwestern voice.

He watched as Sam raised her hand and gently planted it against the tree, closing her eyes as she did. Then Teal'c raised his hand, and Daniel followed suit.

He thought he felt a faint tingling as his hand brushed the crenellated bark of the oak. The bark was dusty, crumbling, and deeply textured. He stood for a few seconds with his hand against it, and then moved closer and rested his forehead against the trunk of the tree.

He thought -- although he knew it was impossible -- that he felt the presence of the others right through the bark. Knew that Jack was reminded of his childhood, that Sam was puzzled, and Teal'c respectful.

This was not his world, he thought. His world was covered in golden sand, that sifted through the cloth-hung doorways and drifted in corners. Soft to his toes, warm even in the cold night, gritty and annoying and so very beautiful. A moving living world of sand, where as a child he'd played and as an adult he'd married and loved.

This, though -- this was something other. Something alien. An intelligence he could barely recognize, with which he could not communicate. They shared no experience and, while not hostile, they were foreign to each other. The barrier between them was too great, the distance too far; they could glimpse each other, respect each other, but they could never meet.

He opened his eyes to watch Jack, standing so near him. An expression of delight played across his face, and Daniel felt a loss. Jack had access to this world; he would be the translator, the speaker-to-others, that Daniel usually was. For a horrible moment, he was jealous of whatever it was that Jack was experiencing -- this was his job, his specialty. But Jack's face was so peaceful in the trembling light beneath the trees. Daniel relinquished this to him. He sighed.

Jack opened his eyes and smiled at Daniel. "I was right," he whispered, and Daniel nodded. He lifted his hand from the tree with which he couldn't communicate and cupped Jack's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"There's nothing here for us," he said, and Jack nodded. "Don't tell them." He turned to look at Sam and Teal'c. "We mustn't tell them," he insisted. "They'll turn this into a beta site, or a training camp. They'll chop down the trees and tread down the grass."

The others nodded, Sam frowning.

"Daniel's right," Jack said, and Daniel felt his heart lift. He squeezed Jack's shoulder again in thanks. This wasn't his world, he couldn't speak this language, but he could recognize and protect it.

"There's nothing here," Sam finally said; Teal'c nodded in regal agreement, and they slowly removed their hands from the bark of the tree. Only Jack was left touching it, communicating with it, Daniel thought. For long minutes more, they stood there, waiting. The wind stirred the leaves in the tree they were under, and light flickered across Jack's face, lighting his hair.

He was getting old, Daniel saw. His grey hair, the lines on his face, the angle of his shoulders, told Daniel that his friend was aging. As he himself was. Jack was still in middle age, still strong and intelligent and able, but for the first time, Daniel saw that he was nearing some border that, once crossed, would lead him into the country of the old. His heart contracted at the thought, and he slid his hand from Jack's shoulder to around his back, sheltering him, comforting him. Jack opened his eyes again and smiled at Daniel, and finally released the tree.

Without a word, the four set off back to the stargate, moving slowly and silently through the grasses. The wind was dying as the sun set, and the world glowed in late afternoon, the sun's rays angling across the hills. It was a long hike, longer going back than going out had been; reluctance pulled at Daniel's feet.

At last they reached the gate but Daniel didn't reach for the glyphs on the DHD. He stood for a moment, and then sat down on the base, the grasses rising above his head. The others said nothing, but he heard them move and then Jack sat near him, stretching out his long legs. "Don't take anything back with you," he told Daniel. "It might be -- I dunno." He gestured. "Interesting."

Daniel nodded. He couldn't bring anything back that might intrigue the other SGC scientists. "We have to lie to General Hammond," he said, and now Jack nodded.

"Yeah. We have to. I think he'd be okay, but we can't tell him without telling others." By others, Daniel knew Jack meant the politicians who hovered over the stargate project like vultures over a dying lion. "Is the planet affecting us? The trees?"

Daniel knew what he meant. "We don't normally lie to Hammond."

"Not much," Jack agreed. "Only a little."

"This is a pretty big one."

"Yup."

"You think the trees are, uh, telling us? To lie?"

"To protect them. Maybe."

Daniel took a deep breath of the impossibly clean air and looked toward the setting sun. "Let's not go back until the first star comes out."

"Daniel?" Sam's soft voice called to him. "Are you okay with this?"

"With lying?"

"It's more a sin of omission," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Are you?"

"I think we have to."

"Teal'c?"

There was a longish pause, and Daniel glanced at Jack. He couldn't see the others; they were connected only by their voices. At last, Teal'c said, "I believe we are compromised. I believed this planet, or these trees, are --"

After a few seconds, Daniel said, "Are what, Teal'c?"

"Influencing our decision."

"Hell, yeah," Jack said. "So?"

Another long pause, and then Teal'c said, "As you say: So."

"Just so's we know," Jack mumbled to Daniel.

"You think you'll be okay with this decision once we get back?"

"Do you? Do you think we're compromised?"

"I think it likely."

"It's okay," Sam's voice said. "There are no Goa'uld here."

"I do not believe we will find naquadah here, either," Teal'c added. Daniel looked at Jack, who shrugged.

"We're compromised," he finally said. "We'll deal with it. We've had to lie before."

And that was true, Daniel thought. Individually and as a team, they'd lied, and they would lie again. He sighed and leaned back on his elbows, to watch the darkening sky above him.

The blue grew bluer, deeper, darker, the color of still water in deep shade. The air was perfectly still. Somewhere, something bloomed, and the scent rose around them, sweet and sleepy in the dusky air. And then the first star bloomed, a pure blue-white light in the deep-blue night, and Daniel closed his eyes and wished, with all his heart, that this world, at least, would remain pure and unhurt. He could live knowing that one world somewhere was undamaged and innocent.

To his embarrassment, he felt tears come to his eyes. He opened them to find the sky swimming in stars. He sighed deeply, and sat up.

"Time to go home," Jack murmured, and rose, taking Daniel by the elbow and pulling him up, too. Teal'c appeared from the grasses, and then Sam, and they followed Jack to the DHD. "Dial us home, Danny."

They went home, and the general thought they were saddened by what they had not found. They never told him that they'd been saddened by what they'd left behind. An unnamed world, an uncharted planet, locked out of the computer because there was nothing there.

We mourn what we cannot have, Daniel thought that night as he stood in his shower, washing off the day's activities. We mourn absence, which fills us with longing, unrequitable longing for completion. We long for Eden, never possessed, never to be possessed.

He shaved, for reasons he didn't understand, staring into the bathroom mirror, smearing the shower's steam away with his towel, and saw again the blue of the sky, smelled the alien flowers, and felt again the rough bark beneath his hand. Had he felt a tingle? Was it all imagination? Daniel rarely thought of Jack as a fanciful man, but he'd felt something was watching them, that something had been present there in a way mere plants were not. Had it been the planet itself? Or the trees, as Jack thought?

He didn't bother to turn on any lights when he left the bathroom, clean and shaven and melancholy. He poured himself a glass of wine from a bottle Sam had given him the last time she'd come to dinner, and then stood in his living room, looking around at the detritus of his life, barely visible in the streetlight.

He remembered how acute his senses had been while on that planet. Did he normally notice the air quality so intensely? The feel of a breeze on his skin, the smell of distant flowers? He had stared into so many star-filled skies so many nights; had last night been so different?

He didn't know. He thought maybe, but how could he sure, unless they returned? And they'd agreed among themselves never to return. Besides, even if they did return, Jack would have to do the translating.

A sharp knock at his door surprised him. Peering through the peephole, he saw it was Jack. "Hey," he said, opening the door. "Wine?"

Jack nodded, and followed him silently to the kitchen, where he refilled his own glass as well. He raised his glass to Jack, who lightly touched his against Daniel's. They drank, but to what Daniel didn't know.

"What happened today?" Jack finally asked him. Daniel smiled, and backed up against the kitchen table.

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

"No." Jack smiled at Daniel. "No," he said more slowly. "But I'd like to understand it better."

"You thought the trees were watching us."

"Jeez. You say it like that and I sound like an idiot."

"Then you say it."

To Daniel's surprise, Jack stepped next to him and bumped him with his shoulder, then leaned against him. It was an odd gesture, yet Daniel felt utterly comfortable with it. Jack-speak for he couldn't answer in words, Daniel knew; he was fluent in Jack after all these years. "You're not an idiot," Daniel finally said, and Jack smiled.

"I know."

"So. Trees, hunh?"

"Yup."

Daniel nodded, and sipped his wine. Why not? It was less strange than many things they'd seen together. What mattered was that they were comfortable with their decision now that they were off-planet. And he was comfortable. And despite Jack's unexpected presence in his dark kitchen tonight, he knew Jack was comfortable, too.

They stood there, resting against each other, supporting each other, for another minute; then Jack put his arm around Daniel's waist. "We should sit down. I've been on my feet all day, and I know you have, too."

"Yeah." They moved together into the living room, and then parted to sit on the couch.

Daniel leaned back, happy to be home, happy to be with Jack. Something had happened today; he didn't know what. But he'd grown comfortable with ambiguity and knew he'd manage. As a scientist, he was predisposed to find answers and predict results, but as a member of the SGC and of the first-contact team, he accepted that the universe was larger and stranger than any single theory or equation could encompass. Sometimes weird shit happened, and that's all there was to it.

Too many years with Jack, he thought, sipping his wine, except he knew it was more than that. It was too many losses, too many missed chances, too many mistakes. No one could carry all those burdens. So he shrugged them off. If what they'd done today was an error, well, then it was an error. But he believed they'd acted in the best interests of the planet. If they needed to go back, Sam would know the address. But until that day, he would keep what he'd seen locked in his heart, shared only with Jack and Sam and Teal'c.

But mostly with Jack, who sat watching him, a fond smile on his face. We mourn only absence, he thought again, lightly tracing the rim of his glass so it rang out delicately in their shared silence. A beautiful noise, crystal. Jack was smiling at him over his glass, inescapably there, a powerful presence in Daniel's life.

Perhaps the trees had spoken to Jack; he'd never really know. But he trusted his friend, and he'd felt something on that world. Jack's presence had banished the melancholy and, for tonight at least, Daniel wasn't alone. He didn't have to mourn tonight. And, somewhere, unimaginable distances from earth, a world dreamed on in silence, too, as safe as Daniel and Jack could make it.


End file.
